


The Ruler of Dawn and King of Unification

by mocinno



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Pain, Spoilers for Golden Deer, there's no Bad Words but just in case it's T, yes i tagged the gatekeeper for his three lines lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 00:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20087752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mocinno/pseuds/mocinno
Summary: An expansion of Claude and F!Byleth’s paired ending together.





	The Ruler of Dawn and King of Unification

The thirty first of Horsebow Moon. It was the four month mark since the battle against Nemesis. Claude had left, promising to return, and Byleth trusted him. In his stead she unified the continent under the United Kingdom of Fódlan and became its begrudging first queen. Outside of the battlefield, she had never been one for leadership roles, always preferring to be an assistant than an actual political figure. Yet just as Claude had learned from her, Byleth had learned from him, and she took to the role well enough.

Still, she knew her battle was far from over. Defeating Nemesis had been the end of one war and the beginning of another. Fódlan was still an unfair land, filled with Crest based judgements and classist attitudes. 

Byleth was in the throne room that day, twirling her hair absentmindedly. Much of her time was spent there, waiting for the daily issues that would eventually find their way to her. Otherwise, she was out and about in the surrounding town, greeting the citizens and ensuring its surrounding walls were fortified. The throne room, after all, was a large and lonely room that she preferred to avoid whenever possible.

"Greetings, Your Highness!" The gatekeeper bowed at her as he entered the room. Byleth stood from her throne and walked down the platform to see him face to face. He panted, out of breath, as he spoke. "Something to report. It seems a large force is marching towards us! They carry the Imperial flag. From where they were spotted they'll arrive on the outskirts of the town in hours!"

Byleth nodded. "So they have yet to breach the castle's city."

"I-I don't know how they escaped our scouts until now. My deepest apologies, Your Highness." She waved her hand.

"It can't be helped." She sighed, tilting her head into her hand. There had been a heavy fog the past week, but she had brushed it off as unusual weather. What a fool she had been.

An Imperial army, likely made of the strongest loyalists left. Byleth knew better than anyone that the standing army at Derdriu wouldn't be enough. It was a shadow of the Knights of Seiros; if the Knights themselves had struggled with the Empire at its height, Derdriu would be crushed like dust. Her best soldiers, her former students, were scattered across Fódlan and wouldn't possibly arrive in time. The town surrounding the castle was a bustling city, she knew, and there couldn't be battle there without bloodshed with her forces. There were few options.

"I will meet them head on."

"Are you sure that's wise? It's a large army."

She nodded once more. "Gather our men on the edge of town. We cannot have them enter the city walls. Have our finest snipers take up the watchtowers. Warn the civilians not to leave. So long as I am alive, this city will not fall. Let the knights know, they are not to join the battle until I command it."

"Understood, Your Highness." The gatekeeper sprinted away.

Alone in the throne room, Byleth felt smaller than ever. An army was headed her way, after _her_ head. She was completely and totally isolated. There was no time to plan a deeper strategy, to call for reinforcements. All she could do was pray that her hope would come true; that maybe, she was not quite _alone_, but lonely.

She walked to her bedroom, adjacent to the throne. The entire room was royal, extravagant, more than she liked. Displayed in a case was her armor from her days during the war, scratched and worn but battle ready.

It still fit, of course. From the case she also withdrew the Sword of the Creator. She hadn't touched it since the war, not since learning its edges were marred by blood and murder. 

She walked through the castle halls, nodding to servants and knights. 

* * *

Byleth walked to the city gates with a torch in one hand and another on her sword's hilt. After confirming the positions of the knights with the captain, she exited the town.

It was only her and an army outside the walls.

Hearing the clanking of metal, she stopped. 

"You." A man in bright red and black armor stood at the front of the army, swinging the Sword of Seiros like a toy. "You killed Emperor Edelgard, and now I, Fynn Einar, will kill you!"

The Sword of Seiros, the one Edelgard had wielded with her dying breath. Byleth withdrew her own sword, still holding her torch in one hand.

Preparing to be struck, she angled her sword to parry. Fynn rushed at her, but his sword went to her torch rather than her. It flew from her hands, extinguishing in the dirt. She realized, then, how little she could see-- Fynn had disappeared from her sight, as with the rest of his army. The only light was the reddish glow of the Sword of the Creator.

Byleth grit her teeth. Of _course_ the plan of a vengeful noble was so dirty.

"Coward! Fight me like a real knight!"

She held her sword in front of her, turning at the slight crackle of leaves underfoot or the caw of birds. "You talk like _you're_ a real knight! Ha, as if!" She rushed at the voice, only to cut through fog. "You and that damned Claude, always using underhanded tactics. If the battle against the Emperor had been a fair fight, she would've won!" Byleth swung again, the bones of the sword rattling against each other as they whipped out at nothingness.

"You're not even half the man he is." She was letting the taunt get to her, she knew. "Don't act like you know what happened at Enbarr!" She slashed, finally feeling the blade cut into flesh and hearing the pained cry of Fynn.

He growled from the fog, rushing at her. She parried, pushing her bone against his steel with all her strength. He relented, retreating into the fog once more.

She whipped the sword again, slamming into steel, and with a tug she knew the Sword of Seiros was wrapped in the Creator Sword. Throwing the tangled weapons aside, Byleth ran forward. She found Fynn in the fog and kicked him in the chest, knocking him down. With a knee on his chest, she unsheathed her dagger and held it to his neck. 

Within the fog, she heard the rattle of weapons, all pointed at her, she knew. "Order your men to drop their weapons, now."

Fynn sighed. She moved off of him, keeping her dagger an inch from his neck as he rose. He lit a small fire in his palm, illuminating a small area. Soldiers could be heard shuffling towards them. Byleth's eyes scanned the area as she was slowly surrounded by unarmed fighters. "Men," he began, casting a sweeping hand to his soldiers, "the plan has gone perfectly."

"Huh?" Fynn dropped to the ground, and in his place there was a flash of burning light shot straight towards Byleth.

The crackle of lightning filled the air and suddenly she was on the ground, a bolt of electricity through her right arm, her dagger dropped helplessly to the side, pain shooting through her entire body like she was alight, and more soldiers were clanking around and laughing, was that Fynn's voice laughing, and he seemed to be speaking but she didn't know what, and she could hear the shouts of allies, maybe they were the snipers, and somewhere far, far away the beating of a wyvern's wings, but that wasn't possible, she had no Wyvern Knights employed at the castle, and she couldn't breathe couldn't breathe couldn't breathe--

It all happened in a moment.

She couldn't move. 

Her breaths were ragged, her pulse uneven. Her vision faded in and out from the pain, her ears ringing and sparking. Surely not even a lightning strike could feel this bad. No, this was magic; dirty, dark magic only used by those who slither in the dark. Those who slither in the dark. Those who slither in the dark? They yet lived?

She couldn't. Couldn't think. Her brain was fast and slow and her thoughts rammed into each other haphazardly.

All she saw were metal boots and trampled grass.

Was this... where she died?

No. She promised to reunite with Claude. She _promised._

Somehow, she propped herself up on her left elbow.

She promised. Through the pain and blood and _death_ she had _promised_ they would reunite. Promised. She'd see his ambitions through.

He was always a man of his word. There was no way he would leave her to die.

No way.

Fynn's black boots moved towards her. She titled her head and saw the cold steel of the Sword of Seiros pointed at her and Fynn's vengeful face. He pulled his arm back and swung.

She closed her eyes. The pain was too powerful for her to stand, and there was no time to roll away. This truly was where she would die. 

_I'm sorry, Claude. I'm sorry I"m sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I love you I'm sorry I love you I love you--_

The man groaned suddenly, as though he'd been shot. Shot. Shot. Shot. Fynn was shot.

Byleth opened her eyes. A glowing arrow was pierced through his heart. He fell forward with a thud, blood quickly pooling around his body. So much blood. Byleth pushed herself away from him as much as possible.

"-ey, Teach! That _bastard_, what did he -- you?!"

Footsteps. They were coming, rushing at her. The same voice shouting something, and more footsteps, and the faint light of white magic illuminating the air. The voice shouted again, and there was the sound of an arrow being notched, and more yelling from all sides, so much yelling she didn't understand, and the fog cleared. A hand lifted her slightly from her left side, careful to leave her right arm still.

The pain faded, slightly. Byleth's entire body still felt aflame, but her hearing and eyesight slowly returned. Above her was a tanned face and bright green eyes, his mouth moving fast, as though he would die before he was able to speak.

"--nd more healers are on their way. I'm sorry I took so long. You knew you could trust me though, right? Things in Almyra weren't as easy as I expected, but--"

"C...laude." She felt the arm supporting her jolt in shock. "You came... back... for me."

His words caught in his throat.

"I missed... you. Thank you." With what little strength remained, she lifted her left arm and gently pushed a strand of hair away from Claude's face. 

* * *

When Byleth awoke, she was in her bed in the castle, buried under soft sheets, the faint scent of bread wafting through the air.

Trying to turn her body sent pain down her spine, so she tilted her head to see a tray with bread and water on her nightstand. Ah.

Vaguely, she understood. During the battle against Fynn, she'd been struck by magic and nearly died before Claude arrived to save her. There were many missing steps, but she at least knew the ending. Past the door, in the throne room, she could hear voices.

A young woman was speaking. "It will take some time before she can fully recover from such vile magic, but... Oh, don't make that face! She'll be fine. Keep her off the battlefield, though." Her tone changed from stern to gentle. "It's not like she'll be doing any fighting. Not when we're in peacetime."

The other voice was Claude's. "Thank you, Lysithea. I'm sorry to have called you here so suddenly, but you're the only one I know who could--"

"You're welcome, but you don't need to heap praises on me. I would do anything for the Professor, you know."

"... I know. I think any of us would."

"Hmph!" Lysithea huffed, though clearly satisfied. "Since I'm here, I'll stay in town a little longer. But I'll leave you two alone for now." Byleth heard her footsteps as she walked away.

Claude chuckled to himself, his laugh growing louder as he approached Byleth's room.

He didn't know she was awake yet, she realized, with a slight smile. She closed her eyes.

Her door clicked open and she felt the bed shift under Claude's weight at its edge. "Hey... Wake up soon, why don't you?" His hand covered hers lightly. "I'm gonna worry about you, even with Lysithea's help." He gave her hand a slight squeeze. Her heart fluttered at the touch. It had been so _long._

"Don't go dying yet. We haven't had a proper reunion." His weight shifted and his hands brushed her hair gently from her face. "Gods... You're so beautiful. Ah-" Claude withdrew his hand sharply and muttered, "I really hope you're not awake..."

Byleth fluttered her eyes open with a satisfied smile. 

He hand one hand on his mouth, his ears flushed and his eyebrows knit. "It's good to see you again, Claude."

He shook his head. "You're evil." 

With her less painful arm, she pulled him into a hug. 

"Also, Teach. I know this isn't a great time to say it, but... I think I accidentally created the perfect scenario." He pulled back from their hug with a glowing smile. "'At Fódlan's moment of greatest plight, the newly crowned Almyran king and his army swept in and saved the day, forever uniting the two countries.' That's what the textbooks will say. Sounds pretty good, right?"

Byleth laughed, slowly turning to coughing painfully. "Sounds pretty close." She spoke her next words slowly, with great care. "So, Fódlan's queen and Almyra's king. What do you think the people will say about _that__?__" _

He pressed a kiss to her lips. "We can worry about it later."

**Author's Note:**

> This ending almost gave me a heart attack when I read it onscreen before it finished and so I was inspired.
> 
> Also I've like, barely edited this, oops. Sorry for any jarring typos.


End file.
